The Prince of Sharkania
by samus18
Summary: After being captured, rescued, and lured into a sea witch's cave, Sharkanian prince Shizma finds himself trapped in a world not his own. Conflicting two sides of himself, he must decide which life is more important to him. Rating to be safe.


Note: You all know the movie "The Little Mermaid," but this fanfic features characters from the television show. They're known as Sharkanians and made only a single appearance in the entire series; a shame, because they allowed great potential for further plotlines.

The main character is a Sharkanian prince, Shizma, who serves in his father's regiment and is also captain of the guard.

I kinda set this up as the opposite of "The Little Mermaid," being in that it's a _prince _who becomes involved with the human world, but this isn't exactly going to be a romance.

It'll take place in slightly more modern times, therefore it's going to be a little different than the original "Little Mermaid," era. As far as I know, we also know close-to-nothing about Sharkanians as a whole, so that leaves a lot of room for possibility.

Kua is an ancient shark god in Hawaiian folklore.

I also just noticed that one of my character's names sounds almost exactly like Ariel, but he has absolutely nothing to do with that character. Pure coincidence, and I like the name too much to change it for that reason.

Also, I really couldn't think of a fitting title for this piece, so I generalized it to death. Sorry. P

That being said, let the story begin.

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**The Prince of Sharkania**

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"_I always knew that somehow I was different. It's true that I looked the same as my brothers and sisters, and to outside eyes no doubt I behaved as they did, but inside I knew that I was me, and there was no-one else in this world that was like me." _

_David Henry Wilson, "The Coachman Rat"_

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I knew from the beginning that something dangerous and exciting was about to take place. When my father, the Emperor, had given us orders to attack an oncoming human vessel, I thought he had gone insane. A helpless human flailing at the surface was one thing-a _ship full_ of humans was another, a force to be reckoned with more often than not.

But we were getting desperate ever since the war with the Mervikings had left Sharkania virtually armor-less and exceedingly lacking in food sources. Human ships _always_ promised bountiful supplies; every creature in the ocean knew this. Weapons, supplies, and no doubt food would arrive in abundance if our attack was successful. We weren't, after all, attacking the humans to eat them.

We Sharkanians are not known for our picky eating habits - another thing every creature in the ocean knew. But we generally refrain from eating merfolk and humans. The only exception was probably Javelin the Great who, according to ancient records, once attacked a small human vessel single-handedly and won. Records also show he ate his victims, could hold his own against a killer whale, and pulled a fisherman from his boat when his tooth got snagged on the hook.

Of course, even the great must meet their demise.

And Javelin met his at the hands of a human captain who, along with the rest of his wretched crew, was a whale hunter. No one ever discovered what happened to the body. It could be that the great human captain mistook Javelin the Great for a whale and harpooned him, leaving our Sharkanian idol to die at the bottom of the sea.

_Humans…_

If there is any creature that could _possibly_ strike fear into the heart of a Sharkanian, it would be humans. Even as a sharkling, I knew how important it was never to reveal myself to a passing boat or ship. Of course, _I_, Shizma the prince of Sharkania, always had to be on the lookout for enemies. Many an Octopan and Merviking would love to take a shot at assassinating a young Sharkanian prince…but, as a member of the royal family, I passed my entire puphood surrounded by guards. I was allowed to play with other sharklings, but only those whose parents had close connections with my family and who were trusted. Intimate friendships never lasted with me though; royalty itself had prevented many chances for friendship and intimacy.

I never minded this much, because my thoughts were always filled with war and triumph over other species. You'd think I'd have leapt out of water at the chance to be able to take on a ship full of humans, but like I said, I wasn't entirely eager. I had seen firstfin what humans were capable of doing to those they caught, and it always ended in a terrible, suffering death. Our people resided in the deeper ends of the ocean, but it was not unheard of for a curious young sharkling to venture a mite too close to the surface, and if a boat happened to be passing by…

_Fagh_! Those thoughts aside…

I joined the regiment as soon as I was old enough, which meant as soon as I could swim. I underwent rigorous training through my superiors (an irony, since there _was_ no one superior to royalty) who were delighted to find that they had an experienced and fast learner in their midst. I course, I was the Emperor's son, so it was no surprise. Those belonging to the royal family were among the fastest swimmers, strongest fighters, keenest sentinels, and sharpest of mind.

My father, especially, was proud that his first and only son had already made a name for himself. And in the _military_! Life was nothing but glory from then on.

But disappointingly, few dared to attack us, so our people were always itching for a fight. Always, we would spar with each other. _Always_. But one thirsted for more than mere play-fighting day after day. That was why, when the Mervikings came and sought to conquer our empire, we met them in battle with terrifying eagerness. Any other race would recount, with horror, the atrocities that occurred during those years of bloodshed and death, but not us…not Sharkanians. To us, fighting was as essential as the water that kept us alive. Without it, we were fish out of water.

The war lasted for several years and in the end we had won, but were left with less-than-adequate supplies. That was why my father ordered his regiment to attack the human ship and take what we could, and that's what we were currently doing: waiting, hovering just below the surface for the opportune moment to strike.

But just _how_ we were supposed to board the vessel, I wasn't sure. Nevertheless, I wasn't promoted to my current position for nothing; my warriors and I would find a way.

One of my most trusted warriors, Jaga, turned to me and asked, "Orders, Your Highness?"

Looking, I could sense the ship approaching closer and closer, each wave growing bigger in its wake. I had to make a decision, and fast.

"Rise to the surface. Show yourselves!" I commanded.

They looked at me as if I were crazy, but a thundering "_DO IT_!" on my part obliterated any doubt they had. I could smell their apprehension like the intoxicating smell of blood as we aimed to break the surface. I myself was more alert than usual, but if all went according to plan, then overtaking the human ship would prove successful.

…Had I known what a mess this encounter would prove to be for me later, I would have turned tail and fled. But…young and stupid and eager to prove myself, I followed orders unquestioningly.

No, that's not correct. There _was_ questioning among the ranks, but they were never voiced (a wise decision.) Despite the reputation we Sharkanians have for being dense and uneducated (and even _I_ have to admit this was true more often than not), we did have the occasional scholar and philosopher, though they were so rare it was hardly worth mentioning, and those that _did_ become well-known were scorned and ridiculed for not choosing to apply themselves within Sharkanian profession: war and violence.

I myself had schooling that was a cut above the rest, but only because I was a prince and also had no intention of burying my snout in scrolls and books.

Back to our mission at hand, step one went according to plan-_my_ plan, at least.

As soon as the sailors saw us, they shouted and immediately began throwing nets and spears our way. It was the latter I knew we had to be extra careful for, for one lost warrior meant less chance of success.

The first net fell to the water with a light slap. I glanced up at the human who had thrown it, sparing a second of awe before I dove into action. I was not a very accurate judge of human age, but I guessed this man to be a full-fledged adult by his size and by the hardened look in his eyes (we Sharkanians are vicious but we're also perceptive.)

Unfortunately, this human didn't keep hold of the net, so I was forced to target one who did. Thinking fast, I dove toward the nearest wad of rope and yanked as hard as I could. With a yell, the human at the other end lurched foreword - clearly not expecting a fight - and fell into the water, my warriors already beginning to waylay him. Once again, everything had gone according to plan.

Those of my fighters not concerned with ensnaring the struggling human followed my lead, but my method was short-lived, for the humans saw what we were trying to do.

A sudden, piercing shriek struck my ears and I looked to see one of my warriors flailing like a hooked fish, a roped harpoon sticking out of his chest. My face turned from shock to rage as I waved a hand toward my warriors.

"Come on!" I shouted as our fallen comrade was being hauled toward the boat.

I had absolutely no intention of letting the warrior become another tally for the humans to do away with. I grabbed hold of the rope (much to the human's delight and amusement) with the warrior still attached and seething with pain. I whispered silent encouragement the closer we came to being pulled over the ship's side.

"Don't give up, brave soldier," I whispered, glaring at the entertained human faces. "We'll tear them all to _shreds_…!"

I allowed myself to be handled over the side of the ship ("railing" I think is what they call it) but only to regain my composure. Then I went into a frenzy.

I lunged for the nearest human, prepared to tear him limb from limb, and though I was out of my element, I was still just as capable a fighter against these humans. But to my surprise, the man fought back.

Looking back now, I think that's where my planning had gone wrong. If I had exerted more strength, or if I had acted faster, or had been smarter, then perhaps none of this would have happened.

But it did.

The humans overpowered me in no time, and my comrade was dying, therefore in _no _position to put up a fight. I didn't know what I was thinking - we Sharkanians are powerful, but I was outnumbered by at least twenty humans.

I struggled as much as I could, but soon my arms were bound with rope and my mouth was bound in cloth, so all I could do was stare and wait for something to happen, wait for an opportunity to attack, to escape, to do _something_ other than to give up and die at the hands of these creatures.

I couldn't understand the human language, but by their gestures and the expressions on their faces, I could tell they were intrigued (human faces and upper physique was completely reminiscent of the merfolk. Sharkanians too, if you thought about it.)

I have to be honest: however fearless my people were as a whole, I did not particularly enjoy thinking about what the humans intended to do with me…_or_ my fallen comrade.

My warrior heart wanted nothing more than to break loose from my bonds and send every one of these sorry creatures overboard to their deaths, but all I could do is stare and snarl.

Through my anger, I idly noticed the scent of death lingering over my fellow Sharkanian's body. I remember thinking that this offered me a new chance for escape. We Sharkanians are highly sensitive to the smell of blood, and by _sensitive _I mean that it drives us mad. In our culture, it was customary to attack and devour any warrior injured beyond repair, no matter their rank. We had healing techniques, of course, but they were rudimentary and rarely used (if even needed.)

I thrashed wildly and my tail hit one of the humans square in the chest. They dove at me like piranhas at a chum fest, trying to take hold of my arms and pin me down, but I didn't give up so easily this time.

My intention was to escape and leap back into sea, but I had to fight my baser instincts to do so. The smell of blood - real, life-giving blood - was overwhelming me and I felt it harder to concentrate. My mind kept screaming: _Blood! Kill, tear! Blood!_

My previous luck seemed to be mirrored in the last thirty minutes, because the sailors restrained me and dragged me to a small, enclosed room down below before I could make my escape. They said something I didn't understand before leaving. Any one of my kind would be positively livid at such humiliating treatment, but I had no time for vengeful thoughts…not yet, anyway.

It took only a few minutes for my bloodlust to mellow out, and then I _really _began to worry. _Surely _the humans knew I needed water to survive…_Surely _they intended to keep me alive (I have heard of stories of sharks who have had their fins cut off by humans and then left to die, but I've never actually seen it happen.)

Time dragged on and still no one had come to give me so much as a scrap of food or a drop of water. The food, I didn't long for as much because I was already feeling faint and rather sick from lack of water. I'm convinced that what kept me alive for so long was my Sharkanian blood: fierce, determined, and _strong_. I doubt any merfolk would have lasted this long; certainly no _fish _would. Still, I knew I wouldn't make it through the night unless I came up with an escape strategy.

One of the humans _finally _decided to come down from up above. I didn't exactly plan this, but a split second before he showed his face, I immediately dropped to the floor and played dead like a dogfish.

His footsteps ceased, so he must have seen me. My heart pounded inside my chest as I heard the door slide open, could sense the creature coming closer. For a moment I considered springing to life and attacking him right then and there, but doing so would only alert the humans, and I needed time to retrieve the body of my fallen comrade (I previously saw them shove him into an enormous bin where fish was kept.)

Thank Kua my spontaneous plan proved successful, for I heard the human leave. Only then did I dare to crack open an (irritatingly dry) eyelid to make sure. He must have certainly took me for dead - not a mistake any Sharkanian would ever make. Human senses are certainly lacking.

For two agonizing minutes, I waited for them to come back and get me. I shut my eyes once again the second I heard footsteps, and this time I was sure the human brought one or two more of his buddies. Again, they exchanged words I could not hear.

One second…two…three…

They came and picked me up. I remained limp as a dead fish as they carried me to some unknown place, hopefully not too far from where the storage bin containing the fallen warrior was. I felt the cold wind strike my body and knew we were on deck. All I had to do now was wait for the right moment, and hope it came fast; my gills were having a hard time cooperating with my shallow breathing.

Kua certainly must have been looking favorably upon me that day, because no sooner had I wondered what my next course of action would be when a sudden outcry sounded far to my right. I almost opened my eyes to see what was going on. Whatever it was must have been important, because my humans captors dropped me to the floor (I had to stifle a grunt) and rushed off.

Now was as good a time as any.

I opened my eyes and eased myself up on my arms, looking around the pinpoint the source of the outcry. I was a little surprised to see the humans fighting each other on one end of the ship, though _why_ they were fighting each other, I couldn't imagine. I couldn't be bothered with it anyway; I had an escape plan to carry out.

It was difficult inching my way to the storage bin (_conveniently _kept blow deck, but close by.) My mind was a tide pool of confusion the whole way through. I was out of my element, I was captured, I was certainly in danger of being caught, and I was trying to recover my comrade's body. I did manage to find him and heave him out of the crate, and I remember thinking that he felt colder than ever…

As I had hoped, the humans were too busy battling each other to notice one of their prisoners was loose. I hoped and prayed that their skirmish would be enough distraction, at least until I hauled myself and the body overboard.

Suddenly I felt strong hands grip my shoulder. I turned violently, baring teeth and snarling, ready to take on whichever human had dreams of stopping me. But when I turned and came face-to-face with him, I saw no ill-intention in his face, no malice or hatred. I was tense as a sea snake, ready to use what energy I had left to attack the human, but something stopped me.

He frowned slightly. He was young, dark of skin and lean of stature. He glanced over his shoulder at his quarreling brethren and I had a feeling he was going to call attention to me.

But he didn't.

I continued to snarl, not at all minding showing-off my triangular teeth to the young human. He hesitated, then, certainly aware that he was doing something crazy, helped me to the side of the boat. It pained me to accept help from an enemy, and were the circumstances slightly different I would've torn the human apart! But I needed to feel the salty water again, _needed _the wetness to spread over my gills before I suffocated.

The human said several words, and though I had no idea what they meant, I responded only with a slight nod. He seemed satisfied and ran off. I didn't waste another second to find out what became of him.

Comrade in arms, I flung myself overboard. Comfort and salvation…at long last! Life flowed into my lungs through my gills once again; I was so happy to be back in my element that I momentarily forgot whom I was carrying in my arms. I shook my head, needing to focus on the matter at fin and stop swimming around like an excited guppy.

Last I saw, my warriors were attacking the human that I lugged off the ship, but that was when the humans decided to trade and I was forced on board the vessel. I had no way of knowing what happened to my warriors or how many might've been killed.

Well, regardless…the only course of action I _could _take was to travel back home to Sharkania. Then we could conduct a "proper funeral" for the dead warrior. Though solemn, I always looked foreword to those feasts.

I hate to admit it (even to myself), but I was still very tired and still recovering from my time spent on that cursed ship. The better part of me knew there was no logic in being ashamed, for _no_ sea denizen could last long above the surface no matter how strong or stubborn they were.

But really, it wasn't my physical incapability that bothered me. What bothered me was that I had failed miserably; the mission was a complete downfall and I had nothing to show for it, not even a scrap of food or a rusty spearhead. As prince and leader of the expedition, I knew the blame would sit heavily on my shoulders. How could I have been so _foolish__!_

I've always prided myself on my intelligence compared to most Sharkanians, but my ordeal with the humans has _got _to be ranking among "Top 5 Most Stupid Sharkanians" list.

I sighed and stopped to rest a minute, setting the warriors' body down on the ground. The sea was growing colder and darker with the oncoming night, and predators began emerging from their lairs to hunt…but I was a Sharkanian, and Sharkanians have little to fear in the ocean, being the very object of fear ourselves.

It was a little strange sitting there all alone out in the middle of nowhere with a dead body after just having escaped a near-death experience on a human ship. I wasn't necessarily creeped out; just pensive.

Over and over again, I replayed the events through my mind…from my orders being obeyed, to the harpoons flying into the water, to the brief encounter with the human who had helped me.

…

_Why_ did he help me? Humans were friends to no one, much less sea creatures; it didn't make any sense that he should have wanted to help me escape. For all the education I had received as a sharkling, I was almost never tutored in the ways of humans. Whether this was because my people considered it irrelevant teaching, that I was too young to fully comprehend it, or even simply that they too knew little about them, I didn't know…but the swim-in with the human made me wish I _had_ known more.

A stingray flopped itself lazily nearby, but quickly retreated when it noticed my presence.

Maybe the fighting had something to do with the human helping me. From what it seemed, there had been a mutiny, and I was lucky enough to have had it happen while I was made a prisoner.

Humans..._fegh_.

They were disgraceful creatures. Even with my limited knowledge about them, I knew that. Though there _were_ things to be envied about them (just take a look at the things they can create; ships, weapons, trinkets, everything) the majority were nothing but a problem, a _nuisance_. I've never heard of a human killing a Sharkanian, I don't even believe most humans knew of the existence of merfolk, much less Sharkanians. For all I knew, what happened during my mission may have been the first ever encounter between our two species. By Kua, I saw the looks on their faces when they captured me - they were astonished!

_Clearly _they had never seen a Sharkanian before. Not to say I wasn't surprised myself (for I had never seen a human up close before, and knowing so little about them has made me more than a little curious) but I knew _they _existed. I _knew _they were out there.

But I had not known humans were capable of kindness. Not to say I assumed the human had _helped_ me out of kindness - I'm not some naive fool! But I _was_ sure of the fact that when…when I looked right into his eyes, there was no malice.

The darkness was growing, reminding me that it was time to be heading home again. I hoisted my comrade's body off the sandy floor after knocking away several scavengers that were already attracted to the tantalizing scent of death.

When, after a while, I made it home into familiar seas, I was greeted by many people. Friends, fellow warriors, even my father was there, stern as ever and with his arms crossed and a freshly-placed scowl adorning his fearsome face.

I wrestled my way through the crowd and delivered a customary bow. "Emperor Zauv," I forced myself to meet his eyes, unwavering. "I have failed in my mission. Forgive me. I am prepared to accept the consequences."

I waited, but it was supremely hard to concentrate while the dead warriors' body was being hacked away bit by bit. I fought the familiar urge to make a beeline for the carcass; my body wanted to feel flesh under teeth, but what could I do until my father excused me?

He pointed a finger at me. "You will explain what happened," he stated in his gravelly voice, "_Then_ I will decide the consequences."

I nodded, mirroring his scowl, then turned and headed straight for the body.

"This is disappointing, my boy. I send you on an important mission because I believed you to be _competent_," my father spat.

His words stung, but I intended to defend my actions. "With all due respect, father, going after a human ship in the first place was bound to end in failure!" Ironic, considering I had spoken of pure victory and success moments before assaulting the human ship.

My father growled deeply. "Our people are in need of supplies. If I tell you to go and gather a months' supply of sea slugs, you _do_ it; if I tell you to go and raid a human vessel for supplies, you _do_ it! Don't question my orders!"

It was my turn to growl savagely…but I knew my place. I briefly bowed my head. "Yes, Your Highness." I swam off.

While thoroughly angry with my father (and most of all myself, for _I _was the one who failed my people) for admonishing me for something that, chances are, couldn't have been avoided no matter which end you bit, I found it hard to focus on my anger the way I usually did when something upset me.

It must certainly have been due to the days' events aboard the ship; after all, it isn't everyday someone gets lugged aboard a human ship and lives to tell about it. I was too beside myself to notice the surroundings before, but now that I was free and safe, I repeated the proceedings over and over, trying to make sense of what had happened as if I were recalling a nightmare.

The ship itself had been small for its size, made, I'm guessing, of a hard metallic matter like the kind you would find on a sunken submarine. Like I said, I wasn't too keen on the details, but I do remember the prison they held me in was full of long, tube-like _things_ protruding from the walls; what the humans used them for, I couldn't begin to guess. I've seen ships and boats before, but I've never seen one like the one my regiment attacked. It was tougher and more durable than any ship I've ever come across - I'd say it must be the first of its kind.

At that moment, Aziel, one of the few people serving in my regiment who was the closest I ever came to consider a _friend_, swam up to me from behind. He delivered a quick bow.

"Highness," he addressed in that raspy voice of his. Despite us being close associates, both of us were obliged to adhere to protocol.

Aziel was a sharp one (though not as sharp as me), but he was a tendency to get himself into trouble sometimes. Everyone knew he had an appetite for mischief, which wasn't a _bad _thing, per se (Sharkanians respect deviousness on any level), but _his_ was the kind that tended to involve others in a not-so-fortunate way.

So, when he approached me with that predatory gleam in his eyes, I knew something was about to happen, either sooner or later.

"The word is out!" he announced proudly, like a parent bragging to their neighbors about something impossibly amazing their pup did. "Everyone knows about your incident on the ship!"

I slowed my swimming just a little and gave him the evil eye. "Is that _good_ or _bad_?"

He shrugged. "That all depends on how you look at it."

I rolled my eyes, expecting this kind of reaction from him. "So, you've come to hold it over my head like a worm on a hook, is that it?"

"Come on, Shizma. Just because you failed your mission doesn't mean it was a _total_ loss."

I stopped. "How was it _not_ a total loss?"

He spread out his hands. "You got to see the inside of a human ship, didn't you?"

"Wondrous."

"Not many can say they've done that."

I threw my arms up. "Well let's just throw ourselves a _party_!"

His shoulders hunched, defeated. I decided to ignore him until he chose to bug me again, but immediately his persona changed from the crestfallen guppy to the devious Sharkanian everyone knew.

"You obviously wouldn't be interested in seeing Beatrice then…"

That was obviously my cue to prod him. "Who's Beatrice?"

He turned aloof. "No one you'd be interested in seeing."

Kua, he was up to something. "Aziel -"

He looked around, I guess to make sure no one would overhear what he was about to tell me. Swimming almost nose-to-nose with me, he gripped my arm and said, very low so that not even the plankton floating around us could hear, "She's a sea witch."

"A sea witch," I repeated, skeptical.

He nodded. "A _powerful_ sea witch, too," he swam over my head and floated there lazily. "She could tell you all you wanted to know about humans."

I frowned up at him. "What makes you think I want to know anything about humans?" I didn't really mean that; I _did_ take an interest in humans to a certain degree. But I wanted to argue with Aziel.

"Who doesn't?"

I glared up at him but didn't see the point in responding, so he continued, "I can take you to see her. She's not too far from here. Say, during your next break?"

I sighed and rubbed the place between my eyes. Sometimes it seemed like I was good for nothing in this ocean except to humor Aziel. Still, I had nothing to loose.

"Fine."

He laughed - a quick, harsh laugh. "Perfection!" he hissed. That was something he always said when things went his way. "I'll catch up with you later, Your Highness!" With that, he turned tail and disappeared into the murky depths, probably to go hunting.

I didn't give another thought to the oaf until the next day.

Aziel found me in the grotto - a secret place I usually went to sharpen my sword…a place I _also_ believed to be known by none other than myself, that is until I looked up to see Aziel's impish face grinning down at me and blocking the light from my task.

"Are we going to see Beatrice or what?"

I suppressed an annoyed snarl and nodded. I did, after all, tell him that I would come; the last thing I wanted was to be like him and break my promises.

What I realized after half an hour of swimming was that Aziel had, once again, bended the truth when he told me Beatrice didn't live far. I had no problem letting know, either.

"It's not much further now," he assured me.

"Maybe not compared to traveling to _Atlantica_ it isn't," I huffed.

Instead of arguing back like he usually did, Aziel fixed me with one of his more serious grins. "Don't worry, Your Highness. You won't regret _this _trip."

I said no more and continued following his lead, deciding that I would have to take his word for that.

At long-last (after another _twenty minutes_), just as I was in the middle of a daydream (even in the imagination it wasn't easy taking down a pod of killer whales), Aziel spoke up. "Ah, here we are!" He pointed to a cave and waved me along. "Let's hope she's not out to lunch."

I followed more warily this time. I don't know why I felt so hesitant now…I guess I half expected Aziel to pull another fast one and lead me somewhere entirely different than where he told me, but as I approached the cave that was now giving off a faint, purplish glow, I began to have doubts.

Sharkanians feared nothing, but from the tales of lore I used to study, sea witches were dangerous creatures the majority of the time. Kua, I don't think I ever really _believed_ in them…I mean, I knew they existed and I knew there once was a sea witch named Ursula, who was the most powerful and most dangerous witch to have ever existed…but being that these were stories of the past, they may as well have been fishtales for how real they were to _me_.

Swimming into the home of this so-called Beatrice and picking my way though the oozing fungus and many colorful oddities covering the walls, I hoped that whatever kind of fishtale I was swimming into really wouldn't be one to regret, as Aziel had assured me it wouldn't.

But then, this was Aziel we were talking about. Not the best kind of reflecting to be doing while you were swimming into the cave of a sea witch.


End file.
